A review by mishka_espey
Birdman by Mo Hayder

4.0

That? That’s a body? He’d thought it was a piece of expanding foam, the type fired from an aerosol, so distended and yellow and shiny it was. Then he saw hair and teeth, and recognized an arm. And at last, by tilting his head on one side, he understood what he was looking at.

This novel materialized out of nowhere and swept the breath clean out of me. It was only on a whim that I downloaded this audiobook to my phone. I’d never heard of Mo Hayder or any of her books. Normally on my hour-plus commutes to work, I split the drive-time fairly evenly between music and an audiobook. After the first few chapters of Birdman, I knew I wouldn’t be able to listen to much of anything else until I finished it.

I tend to be extremely skeptical about modern crime novels. The amount of overused tropes, twists, and tired writing that pollutes popular fiction nowadays is a source of great disappointment to me. See, I believe that crime fiction at its best is more than a chase, a twist, or a chill; it’s meant to be a reminder of just how broken and helpless we humans are. Crime fiction has the advantage of exploring themes of justice and redemption with more poignancy than any other genre. As terrifying and blood-curdling as Birdman is, what makes it stand out to me is the way in which Hayder explores these dark complexities of the human condition, to include discussions on racism, prostitution, and drugs.

The backdrop. Detective Inspector Jack Caffery steps up to investigate his first case as lead investigator with London’s murder squad, and it’s a doozy: the body of a young woman found in Greenwich, so mutilated she is barely recognizable as human. Four more corpses soon follow, all with same ritualistic mutilation, including one particularly bone-chilling signature discovered in the post-mortem examination. Caffery knows he’s dealing with a serial killer. The problem is that the rest of his squad quickly becomes preoccupied with the wrong suspect, a local black drug dealer—and for all the wrong reasons. Meanwhile, Caffery is haunted by his own demons and struggles to keep his personal life from interfering with the investigation.

There are so many subplots running through the story, and Hayder weaves them together expertly so that I was never bored or impatient. The characters are dynamic and vivid, particularly DI Caffery, who is very much the Nordic antihero but lovable nonetheless. There are characters I hated, characters I pitied, and characters I couldn’t get enough of. It’s also difficult to create a unique serial killer when it seems everything’s been done before, but this one is quite unlike any I’ve ever encountered. Damien Goodwin did an exceptional job narrating the text, and his scope of voices—all so different while sharing that same distinct south London accent—was just delicious.

It’s been a long time since I read a mystery that completely duped me. Birdman did, and not just once. This was by far the most spellbinding audiobook I’ve ever heard; Mo Hayder and Damien Goodwin had me in turns gripping the steering wheel, grimacing, chuckling, shivering, and yes, even gasping. Fair warning: if you can’t tell by the opening quote, this one’s not for the faint of heart. There were passages even I had trouble getting through (and this from someone who loved Silence of the Lambs). But boy was it worth it. I can’t remember the last time I was so excited for a series.